


Eorzean Escapades

by AxisAMP



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Asphyxiation, Body Worship, Come Swallowing, Comfortable Silences, Consensual Somnophilia, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Edgeplay, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Implied Breeding, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Intimacy, Intimidation, Non-Verbal Conversation, Overstimulation, Playful Sex, Power Exchange, Relationship Negotiation, Rough Sex, Scarousal, Size Difference, Teasing, Threats of Violence, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24719719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxisAMP/pseuds/AxisAMP
Summary: Chauncey experiences another intimidating-yet-arousing threat of violence at the hands of the first woman he's gotten along with in ages. Hilarity, awkwardness, and funtimes ensue.
Kudos: 9





	1. Locking Horns

**Author's Note:**

> Chaunassen "Chauncey" Euras: Au Ra, Male. 7' 3", tan, muscled, Black hair, Green eyes. A man of few words.
> 
> Bayan: Au Ra, Female. 5' 1", also tan, also muscled, Silver hair, Grey eyes. Will suplex you if given the opportunity.

_Finally, free of this idiocy._

Chauncey pulled up a seat next to his Dragoon comrade across from the table where the feast was taking place. Hopefully, his last few days at Costa del Sol, once Geralt completed his handiwork on what would become his new weapon. Armand attempted, and Aesop improved upon, a rendition of a beautiful musical piece which moved across his mind like a gentle wave of nostalgia as he took a long drink from his jug of water.  
  
After a short while, he peered across the room at his newfound comrades. _A fine bunch_ , he thought, _though rough around the edges_ . _Armand. Aesop. Oz’ie. Hroth. Strayost._ Another wave of the past gently washed over Chauncey’s psyche, trying to recall when last he had so many to call friends since leaving his tribe. So much so, in fact, that he failed to notice the gentle, yet aggressive gait of his sixth new companion.  
  
In a whirlwind, the sixth was straddling in his lap, the ends of his haori in grips that would be adorable were it not for the ferocity he knew lay within them. _Bayan._ The name in his head brought a third wave of warmth from the top of his head down to his fingertips; he swore he could feel sand between his toes again. Perhaps because the last time they had been this close, they had consummated their new friendship with a spar on the beach that had dumbfounded the party, set the ladies of Costa del Sol into a daze, and, admittedly, done a fine mix of both to the young Dragoon. Unlike then, however, here the female Au Ra held the high ground, casting a shadow over Chauncey that belied her more petite frame by comparison.  
  


“Chauncey,” she said, with a smooth sternness he’d heard before. “Who told you you could use that Aether Crystal?”  
  
Chauncey’s breath slowed; despite his attempts at calm, neurons were firing a mile a minute; he and she both knew well that it had been a considerable amount of time since he had met or seen _anyone_ of his kind, let alone a woman, and he approached the subject of courtship with an apprehension and nervousness not reserved for the subject of fighting. “I don’t think Geralt’s actually gotten started on the smelting, if you want you can have it ba--”  
  
“ _No,_ ” Bayan said, her voice hitching an octave in an almost sarcastic portrayal of her frustrations. “It’s... _fine._ ” Her hands unfurled from the edges of his haori, pressing the wrinkled fabric against his chest.  
  
“You see, I am used to having a certain degree of...control over things. And these things, these crystals, they’re important to me.” Her hands gently moved across the silk wrinkled in her grip. “So when I start to _lose_ that control, it just kinda…” Suddenly, her hands reform into balled grips on Chauncey’s shirt. “... _gets me,_ ya know?”  
  
Chauncey doesn’t blink; Bayan is holding him in place with an icy stare, their faces inches from one another. The cavalier in the back of Chauncey’s mind tempts his head to move forward, but the pragmatist holds his body still as death. The ascetic kept his gaze solely at the face in front of him, the hedonist trying desperately to remember the nearest exits that lead to their sleeping areas.  
  
“So next time you find something like that…” Her grip finally loosened again, granting Chauncey a moment’s purchase to breathe and lean back in his chair. “...we’ll _discuss_ who will be best served with them. ‘Kay?” 

Another silence. An actual, almost palpable one this time; at some point Bayan’s ire was taken note of by the rest of the party, whose speech and music had fallen to the wayside. 

A figure entered Chauncey’s periphery. _Oz’ie_. The gait gave it away.

“Bayan, is everything alright?” Oz’ie asked. He knows the look she gets before someone usually gets something broken. In another fluid motion, Bayan rotated a hundred and eighty degrees in Chauncey's lap, a motion which elicited a muffled groan and a wince from the Dragoon. 

The Dark Knight beamed a smile at the young Mi'qote. "Everything's fine." A good chunk of that smile was in the service of stifling a giggle; she wasn't stupid, nor was she oblivious to the obvious effect her actions had imparted on the man currently serving as her seat. 

“Yeah, all good,” Chauncey added, peeking out from behind Bayan’s shoulder. “Seems like I drew the short straw on who gets threatened by Bayan today.” He smiled as well, fully aware that his fleet-footed friend was, like himself and Bayan, _not stupid_. 

“Oh. Okay, gotcha,” Oz’ie replied, his ears giving the slightest droop as he began to back step. “I’m gonna just be…” He made a faint motion backwards with his thumb before the words “...doingmything” came out all at once and he made his way onto the dance floor. Bayan turned her head just enough to lock eyes with Chauncey again. Ice. With a hint of something.

————————————————

The rest of the night zooms by. One of Gegeruju’s former hostesses quickly finds herself courting Oz’ie. Armand relegates himself to his mapmaking, and Aesop continues to be the sounds of the party. Eventually, night falls over Costa del Sol, and the only sound remaining on the island is the distant _clang_ of Geralt’s hammer on what is presumably Chauncey’s new spear. Bayan still sat in Chauncey’s lap as the remaining partygoers returned to their rooms, and the Dragoon took a deep breath, followed by a deep sigh.

Before Bayan can form an inquiry as to whether Chauncey is okay, she is met with a rush; in one sweeping motion of his own, he rose from the chair, hoisting Bayan over his shoulder, and rushed through a door and down into the long hallway that separated their rooms. Bayan felt a faint but stern impact against the wall of the corridor, before locking eyes with Chauncey again. A fixation burned behind them, something she’d only seen when he fought. He brought himself down, meeting her level, his face inches from hers as she’d done with him.

“I need to know if I’m getting mixed messages here,” Chauncey says, in a low whisper as though anyone was left awake to hear them.

Bayan did something uncharacteristic; she giggled right in Chauncey's face, as though the towering Au Ra's request for clarity was the funniest joke she'd heard in ages. "No mixed messages," she replied with a wry smile, "I want you. Besides…" With a clap of skin against skin, Bayan's hand clasped the forearm pinning her shoulders to the wall, slowly wresting it from her frame in a contest of strength. "...you're the only one that can keep up with me."

"Good," Chauncey breathed, refusing to spare another second in limbo, before leaning into a kiss. It was rough, and passionate, and portrayed clearly to the Dark Knight that her companion had both his fair share of experience and an extreme lack of practice. She leaned forward against him, only to be hoisted up and pinned back against the wall.

Their lips parted as her back hit the wall again, and Chauncey's eyes opened for a brief moment. Her eyes were wide, in a display of surprise he'd never seen on her face before. _Was she...blushing?_ Suddenly Chauncey understood. The suit. The domineering persona. The emphasis on control. Yet here he was, pinning her three feet in the air to a wall with nothing more than one arm and half his body weight.

A single thought reverberated through his mind. 

_That face._

_I want to see that face._

Chauncey drew his right arm around Bayan's waist, beginning to take the left path down the hallway towards his room. He immediately found her legs locking around him as they moved, giving her balance as they kissed their way down the corridor until his back hit the bedroom door with a loud _thud_. 

Their lips left each other again as Chauncey's free hand blindly reached for the doorknob, and the two of them locked eyes in another moment of nonverbal conversation. He felt on fire, like every fight he'd ever had was for this moment. The _click_ of the door opening plunged the two Au Ra into another kiss. Each one as they made their way towards Chauncey's bed felt like another war for dominance; fistfuls of hair, nails scratching against skin, tongues wrestling much akin to the day they first met.

Chauncey was partway through depositing her onto the soft king bed when he felt a leg unhook from his waist and find his abdomen. Suddenly, he felt a rush of air as Bayan grabbed him by the haori once again, using her advantageous position to claim leverage and flip the Dragoon over her. In an instant, he was on his back, and Bayan was back in the hot seat.

"Mm-mm-mm," the Dark Knight panted. Chauncey was heavier than she'd anticipated, and these moments where she saw the scale to which he towered over her were scarce. Bayan was used to this dynamic, however, and knew how to work it to her advantage. She straddled his lap once again, untying the Dragoon's haori in a light flourish and beginning to move her hips upon the dragonling. 

Chauncey allowed his haori to slip from his shoulders, laying a hand on Bayan's hip as she moved on him, leaning his head back in the face of this overwhelming catharsis. He could feel one hand tracing fingers across his chest as he took everything in, and Bayan took this opportunity to slip out of her tunic. The Dragoon looked up for a moment, gazing upon his half-exposed companion, and a sound escaped his mouth that he'd never made before. A growl.

He pushed himself up by his arms to bury himself in the scent of her, only to be pushed back onto the bed by a giggling Bayan. She was enjoying herself. Raised again. Pushed back. He grabbed the arm that held his shoulder, to be pushed again. With each move in this dance, his growls escalated, as did the grip on her side.

_Different tactic._ Chauncey tried a softer approach; he gently brought himself up to her, a hand slowly rising to caress her face. The playful smile faded slowly, as he leaned in for an uncharacteristically gentle kiss, when he was met with a sharp pain from the web of his thumb and forefinger. She bit him. He snapped. Before Bayan could muster a laugh, the hand lurched forward, finding its home around her neck as Chauncey reasserted himself above her. A yelp, followed by a gasp, escaped Bayan's lips, and they locked eyes again. The playful look was gone. The fire was back.

Another conversation in motion.

A tilt of Chauncey's head. _Are you okay?_

A slight nod. _Yes._

A light tap of the thumb at her neck. _Is this okay?_

A faint squeeze of the offending arm. _More._

A smile crept from the corner of Chauncey’s mouth, and he ever so slightly began to loosen his grip on the neck of his companion. _Ask nicely._

Bayan’s eyes suddenly widened, her hand clasping against Chauncey’s slowly retracting right arm, pulling it back to its resting place around her throat. Her face flushed, and ice found its way back into her eyes, but it didn’t stop her from holding the arm in place.

Another light squeeze. _More, please._ Chauncey’s smile was ear to ear.

He relocated his arm to the back of her neck, leaning his upper body inward and finally taking in her scent. It was sweet, and intoxicating in the moment. From her neck, he found himself kissing his way across her collarbone, and slowly down her chest. He felt her shift, intending to reach for him, and without a second thought grabbed a fistful of hair with the arm holding her in place. Another yelp and gasp. Chauncey’s eyes darted up with a hint of concern, allowing the female Au Ra to shift her head just enough to give him a shaky nod. He continued his slow, agonizing trail down the Dark Knight’s petite frame, every hint of resistance met with a bite, a tug, a squeeze, until he reached her navel. He kissed it gently, freeing her head so he could use both hands, removing her trousers and undergarments in one go.  
  
Bayan was bare for him now, and he looked upon her with the pure awe one might reserve for a fine work of art, or a dazzling new weapon, or just the most beautiful thing they would ever see. She looked up at him as he towered over her, and as their eyes met, he saw hers dart down, then back up.  
  
_You, too._  
  
Without a word, Chauncey removed what remained of his clothing, so they could both gaze upon each other’s forms. They exchanged a moment’s reprieve, remarking on the familiarities of seeing their own kind again; and yet, it felt almost like they were first meeting all over again. _Nice to meet you, Bayan. Pleasure to have you with us, Chauncey._ The Dragoon broke this fermata by leaning down once again. He kissed slow, looping trails down her abdomen until his head sat gently between her legs, while his own body knelt, as though in reverence, on the edge of the bed.  
  
He looked up into the eyes of his companion, mouth slowly opening and inching towards her. _May I?_  
  
She looked down once again, the same longing in her eyes that he’d given her in the beginning, and brought her legs up around Chauncey’s head. _Hurry up._

He wasted no time, bringing his mouth against her lips and pressing his tongue inward. A low, long moan escaped her as he did so, her hands gripping the headpost above her. She tastes sweet on him. He placed his arms on her hips for stability as he continued his attack on her, greeted with a series of moans, whimpers and occasional yelps. _She’s louder than I expected._ As he continued, he took in every movement she made; every time her head leaned back, or her hands tensed and released, or her thighs began to tense around his face. He may have been out of practice, but he wasn’t out of touch; he could feel a release building in her slowly tensing muscles. He was learning her.  
  
Bayan found herself building steadily as Chauncey lapped at her, trying to contemplate how many ages it had been since last she’d experienced this. Her moans became louder and more wanton, and her hands found themselves rooting in the Dragoon’s hair, her legs slowly constricting further inward, as though if she didn’t the Au Ra would disappear from her grasp. As though he wasn’t thoroughly enjoying his torture of the woman he lay beneath.  
  
Bayan moaned desperately as the heat continued to build, chasing her release. Her legs tightened around Chauncey’s head; he groaned beneath her, the pressure pushing at his horns ento his temples. The growling only served to tighten her grip, whimpering at the vibrations against her clit as he laid into her. A grunt came from the Dragoon as he began to hoist himself up, the Dark Knight’s legs serving to bring her up with him, before bringing her back down into the bed. A surprised yell burst from Bayan’s mouth as she returned to the bed, her legs released from him in a moment of incredulity. Chauncey nursed his jaw gently, his eyes never leaving hers. She’d done it now.  
  
He slowly took his seat at the edge of the bed, Bayan moving backwards to accommodate him, when he grabbed her by the leg and pulled her back into him. The dragonling held up Bayan’s lower torso with his forearms, returning to his prize with a fervor that wasn’t there before. Where there was once a desire to savor every last second of the emotions he wrested forth from her, there was now a seething urge to plunge her right into the release she craved so badly.  
  
And plunge she did. Bayan was practically dangling as Chauncey held her lower body up against him, her upper body half in the air and half running through bedsheets, and her suspension left her in a dizzying sea of pleasure and disorientation. Her head and hands writhed, searching for any grip they could find; sheets, a headrest, Chauncey’s hands. They stayed in no one place for long, as her suitor’s newfound ferocity stole an orgasm from her. This moan was different, a shrill, high-pitched shriek, as her hips bucked and legs tensed against her companion’s face as she fell into the throes of release.

Chauncey lowered Bayan back onto the bed and admired his handiwork, a mess of quivering flesh and pants and moans. His hands traced along the soft skin of her legs, watching aftershocks tense across her body. Their eyes met again, hers half-glazed from stimulation, but still burning. She wasn’t done, and neither was he.  
  
Bayan was met with a sharp sensation that arced from her inner leg up the rest of her body; Chauncey bit her, not hard enough to hurt but with enough pressure to send another wave crashing against her. Slowly, torturously, the Dragoon replaced every kiss he had made down with a bite on his way back up, leaving a trail of reddening marks in his wake until his face was once again an inch from hers. Neither of them hesitated. Bayan grabbed Chauncey by the back of the neck, pulling him into another long, rough kiss.  
  
Chauncey pulled them apart, with the first spoken words since they entered the room. “Last chance to back out.”  
  
Bayan caught her breath from the kiss, licking her lips; she could taste herself on him. She formed a smile. “Fuck you.” Another feat of leverage exploitation, and Bayan had the high ground once again, bringing her hips down against his length. Chauncey slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle a moan, as she began to grind against him again, rubbing him against her clit with a mix of giggle-moaning. He raised his arm to grab her, only to have Bayan grab his arm, leaning down and pinning it above his head. This was her time. 

She raised her hips, her free hand making its way down and taking hold of his cock, stroking it gently as she positioned herself above him. His moans became slowly more audible as she readied herself, then suddenly lowered onto him.

Two gasps. Eyes widening. Thoughts in tandem.

“Oh, _fuck_.” For the first time since they started, both Chauncey and Bayan stopped dead. Both of them were too scared to move. Bayan felt...full. Her hand almost reached up from his arm to touch her abdomen. Chauncey felt sensitive. Too sensitive. Bayan’s torture left him craving a release, and the way she tightened around him left him loosing all manner of noises, as though he could burst any second. He slowly pitched his hips up into her, to be met with a yelp. She was just as bad as he was. He began making the first moves before she could get her bearings, and she quickly relocated her hands from restraining Chauncey to holding onto his hips, attempting to curate his movement.

Chauncey wasn’t having it. As she began to relax, accepting his length, he placed one now-free hand at her hip and began to move more rhythmically. Her moans were long, stuttered with each push inward, and her hands eventually gave up trying to stop him, focusing on using his chest for balance. He kept up a slow, rhythmic pace, giving the Knightess’ smaller frame time to accommodate him, until her moaning became less erratic and he was able to come down from the edge of orgasm. He brought a second hand to Bayan’s hips, pressing her down onto him, eliciting another pair of moans from the two of them; his low and breathy, hers louder but more sharp.

“You okay?” Chauncey asked , bringing a hand to the back of her neck so she could look at him. She nodded , shakily. “I’m gonna start moving now, hon.” Another nod. 

He took a deep breath, bringing himself up so his back leant against the bedpost and they could face each other, and began to thrust. Bayan’s hands came up to his shoulders as he moved, and their foreheads met. Her hips began to move in time with him, and they could feel each other’s breath between moans. Chauncey found himself burying his head in the nape of Bayan’s neck, kissing and biting at her neck as he moved on her, and this sent more waves of euphoria out through her. Every time he bit, her moans became louder, her hips quivering out of time with his, amplifying her sensitivity in the wake of his persistence.

One such bite caused her to lower her hips onto him in a particularly hard thrust, causing a scream from the Dark Knight which her suitor quickly stifled with a hand over her mouth. 

They stopped for a moment. Eyes locked.

A worried expression. Eyes darted to the door and back to her. _Gods’ sake, woman, you’ll wake the whole island._

Face flushed. Small smile. A hand clasps his wrist, bringing his hand from her mouth slowly down to her neck. _Make me._

Chauncey squeezed, and Bayan’s body responded all at once. She immediately clenched around him, stealing a very audible moan from him, and he could see her eyes flutter as she gasped lightly against his hand. Her hips began to move on their own as she rode against him, causing him to inadvertently tighten his grip on his partner’s throat, which only served to tighten her further. He began increasing his pace to keep up with her gyrations, but he could feel his release building again as Bayan’s hand continued to squeeze at the one holding her by the neck. _More?_

She nodded, and Chauncey let out a low growl. With his free hand, he pushed himself forward off the bedpost, reasserting the top position and using his arm to hold Bayan down to the bed by her neck. A blissed-out whimper-moan escaped her lips as Chauncey’s other hand found her hip, holding her in place as he began to move again. Every faint squeeze of her neck caused her to tighten around him, move her hips into him more violently; she was chasing her own release as much as he was his.

Their eyes met again, fire in each of them through labored moans and euphoric whimpers, and Chauncey gave her an almost pained expression. _I’m close._ Bayan pulled him into another kiss; this one was softer, more gentle, and as their lips parted, Chauncey could feel her legs crossing once again behind his hips, locking him in place. That was all he needed to know.

  
The Dragoon immediately lifted a bit onto his knees, lifting Bayan’s lower body a few inches off the bed as he did so, and began moving much faster. All the while her moans continued to struggle to escape, only coming out in faint whimpers or quick yelps between constrictions of fingers around airways. He moved through her much more forcefully now, chasing his end, but despite that, Bayan was suspended, figuratively more than literally, on the cusp of release. His eyes darted to the hand he had on her throat, and he formed a labored smile as he let go.  
  
A deep breath. Suddenly everything was in focus. The tattered bedsheets. Her body restrained beneath her fellow dragonling as he lay into her. The blood slowly returning to her as her every muscle tensed at once.  
  
Bayan detonated.  
  
Her arms and legs both immediately locked in around Chauncey’s neck and hips, holding him to her through waves of orgasm that crashed like thunder through her very core and caused a shrill, ear-splitting scream to burst forth from her. Chauncey immediately felt the waves of violent contractions against him, and could barely even register a thought before a long, guttural moan escaped his mouth. He buried his head in the nape of Bayan’s neck once again, biting and moaning into her as he reached climax. Euphoria racked through the two Au Ra as they held each other in a moment of bliss.  
  
This embrace continued for a few minutes, until Chauncey slowly pulled himself from inside her. Aftershocks rippled through the both of them, and he gently pulled them both up to a proper positioning on the bed, pulling sheets and pillows up for them.  
  
“You know you could’ve woken this whole place with that,” Chauncey whispered, his forehead coming to a rest against hers.  
  
“Don’t really much care,” she replied, panting. One leg hitched up around Chauncey’s waist, the other between his legs.  
  
“You’re gonna have to find a way through the house to get to your armor without being seen, you know.”  
  
“Or not,” She giggled.  
  
The two Au Ra spent the remainder of the night against one another, finally in a moment of peace. Every so often, Chauncey would feel a leg rub against him as he drifted off. A tease. Or an invitation.


	2. Courtship of a Dying Breed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chauncey wants to define his relationship with Bayan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started as a VERY simple question: Would the Necklace of Adaptation apply to someone being mercilessly face-fucked?
> 
> I think I might be allergic to writing plot-less porn.

A gentle rub beneath his covers slowly roused Chauncey Euras from sleep.   
  
He lifted his head gently, slowly reclaiming his bearings. The sun was rising on the Northern Continent, the faintest rays peeking through the shuttered windows and casting their light across the soft king bed. Save for his spears, hung neatly on a rack alongside a massive sword and a suit of heavy armor, the rest of his belongings--particularly his clothes--lay strewn across the room, mostly in a curved path from the door leading to where he lay.  _ All save for the haori _ , he thought to himself with a smirk.  _ The haori stays on-- _   
  
A light breeze from the window made its way slowly through the room, bringing the Dragoon’s hands immediately to his bare shoulders, and before he could ask the all-important question of where his haori had gone, the soft, persistent pressure that originally woke him turned into a squeeze that elicited a low, guttural moan from him and instinctively had him reaching his right hand across the bed to find his partner. The hand that reached with the intent of finding a throat instead found a leg, and he brought the hand slowly under the covers, reaching ever downward until he reached the curve of her hip, giving the gentlest scratch with the scaled protrusions adorning his forearm.   
  
“You’re awake,” Bayan mused. Chauncey lowered the covers just enough to reveal her head; the petite Dark Knight’s head lay along his right side, eyes ablaze as they turned up to meet his from their previous focus. She gave a second, light squeeze, bringing a lower noise, more of a grunt, bubbling forth from her companion’s lips.    
  
“Mmm, Bayan…” Chauncey reached his free hand upwards to rub his eyes, trying in his grogginess to contemplate just how long she’d been working him in his sleep. “...what time is it?”   
  
“Judging by the sunlight…?” She peeked in the direction of the window for a moment, her slow, rhythmic strokes halting for a brief moment. “Hmm…about six in the morning,” she replied, continuing.   
  
“Urgh…” Chauncey outstretched his arms for a moment, trying his best to return to full alertness without interrupting her. “And you wanna, what? Go again? At six in the morning.”   
  
Bayan crawled further downward, such that she lay between his legs with naught but her slow-moving hands and her face visible, and nodded. Chauncey let out a low laugh, one that gave way to yet another moan as his fellow Au Ra began to ever-so-slightly speed up her movements. This wasn’t the first time she’d done this--or the second, or even the fifth--but each successive time she did fostered the tiniest bit of concern in him; that their activities had become markedly longer, more destructive, and more routine; that she had begun to initiate quite a degree more often in recent weeks than he had; and, most prominently this morning in particular, the fact that she’d begun initiating things while he slept.   
  
Not that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy it. “Hon, you sure you don’t wanna--” His line of thought scrambled entirely as her mouth made its way onto his length, kissing her way up slowly. “--wanna get a bite to eat first? Check up on the rest of the group--”   
  
She looked back up at him, eyes in a playful imitation of begging, and began to lift her torso from beneath the blanket when Chauncey released a pained whine; he knew where this was going. After their months of travel, turmoil and companionship, they’d learned just about everything about one another--including their proclivities. He cursed inside his head, knowing he should’ve guessed once he noticed his bareness what happened to it, but nevertheless a voice gnawed at the back of his head.  _ Please don’t be wearing the haori. Please don’t be wearing the haori. Please don’t be wearing the haori-- _   
  
Her torso lifted fully from the bed, covers falling gently to the floor to reveal her sole article of clothing: Chauncey’s haori, tied loosely around her waist in such a way that gave the Dragoon little to leave to the imagination. The significant size discrepancy between the two meant that what passed as a decently baggy covering on him was a veritable dress on her; nonetheless, she purposefully kept it in such a way that, like he wore it, Chauncey had more than an ample view of the soft, pale skin of her chest.   
  
Chauncey growled his begrudging approval, before placing his hand slowly behind Bayan’s head and pushing her downward onto him. She gave him the lightest giggle as her lips slid over his head, the hum and vibration of which sent an arch up the Dragoon’s back before she began moving on her own. Her head moved faster than her hands as she made her way repeatedly up and down the length of her companion, stroking with her right hand that of his length which she couldn’t quite reach. Every so often, she’d bring her head slowly up and off of him, a soft  _ pop _ coming from her as she came up for air, stroking his full length as she did so.   
  
“Bayan,  _ fuuuuuuck _ ,” the Dragoon moaned lowly, his hand rooting through her hair as she took her brief respite.   
  


Their eyes locked.   
  
A set of playful doe eyes, with a gentle squeeze that brought another grunt forth from his lips.  _ You’re not finished already, are you? _   
  
A sigh and growl.  _ Shut up. _   
  
A series of slow, steadily tightening kisses up his shaft, each ending with a suckling  _ pop _ that she delighted in watching him squirm in the face of.  _ You sure about that? _   
  
His hand immediately moved from rooted in her hair to reaching for one of her horns.  _ Shut. Up. _

Her hands slowly inched around his legs, bracing herself and opening her mouth wide with his head at the entrance.  _ Make me. _

Chauncey brought his other hand to her other horn, holding her in place before beginning to thrust his hips up into her. The first was slow, gauging inch by inch her capacity for him until he felt his head reach the back of her throat. Her eyes went aflutter at the contact, tears welling up in her eyes as she took him in, and Chauncey let out an approving groan as he pushed her down further--stopping just shy of her reaching the base of him. He grunted lowly as he pushed gently further down, and the Dark Knight, eager to please, tightened her bracings and attempted to go further on her own--but to no avail. She quickly began to lose her composure upon him, rushing back upwards for air as both of them panted; hers from lack of air, and his from struggling to maintain his composure.   
  
“You…” Chauncey turned her head upward, caressing her face. “...you okay, Bayan?”   
  
Bayan nodded in between breaths, her hand retreating to her chest briefly. “Y-yeah. Just one sec.” After her breathing evened out, she brought her free hand back down to stroke him gently as she prepared to continue, before bringing it back around his leg.   
  
“You sure?” he asked.   
  
“Shut  _ up, _ ” Bayan insisted, pushing herself back down and taking him in with renewed speed. She hummed playfully into him as she continued, delighting in every moan and grunt he gave her as he held her by her horns. Likewise, he delighted in the myriad noises that she made as they moved in tandem. Each thrust of his and push of hers brought pleasure racking through both of their bodies in equal measure.   
  
“ _ Fuck, _ ” he growled, continuing to piston forward. “Bayan, I’m--”   
  
“Mm-mm!” The moment he began to form the sentence, Bayan released her arms from his legs, pushing his hips back downward into the bed. A shuddering moan escaped Chauncey as pleasure racked through him, and he pounded the bed with his fist as Bayan removed her mouth from him with a loud  _ pop _ and began crawling upwards to mount him.   
  
“No wasting,” she panted, grinding her hips downward against him.   
  
“N-no…” Chauncey bit into his lip as Bayan reached eye level with him. “...no wasting,” he repeated with a chuckle. This bit was part and parcel for them at this point.   
  
She brought herself down on him, and the two Au Ra locked eyes once again as their hips came down flat against one another. Both let out their own respective moans of pleasure, an expression Chauncey deigned to stifle by bringing her into a rough kiss. She yelped slightly at the gesture, moaning into it and beginning to roll her hips gently against his as she returned it.   
  
Slowly, their lips parted, and Chauncey gave her his usual expression when things got to this point; half pained, half blissed-out.  _ You sure? _   
  
Bayan delighted in the little noises. She brought his hands up to her hips, bringing hers down to his waist to hold him tightly to her.  _ You really shouldn’t need to ask. _

Chauncey brought his hands digging into her sides, immediately beginning to thrust into her with a vigor that caused the Dark Knight to quiver with pleasure. The scratching against her sent shocks arcing from her abdomen up and down through her extremities, and she brought her legs underneath his; in part to keep them from shaking and in part to keep him from pulling away. Not that he would. There was a particular fire that she got in her eyes when he neared his end, a hungry fervor as she rode him that said all that needed saying. 

_ Don't hold back. _

He began picking up speed, heat building up in him as he began reaching his end, and his companion looked down at him with a triumphant expression on her face. She loosed a small giggle as she began to roll her hips in time with him, their collective gyrations slamming into one another with a violence to it that sent further waves of euphoria crashing against them both.

"Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ , Bayan, I can't--"

Bayan grunted, leaning downward and grabbing Chauncey by the back of his neck, bringing him up so he leaned over her, bringing her legs up behind his hips. 

_ Shut the fuck up and do it already. _

Chauncey growled at the challenge, bringing one hand to her hip and the other to her neck as he lay into her. It had more than the desired effect; she tightened around him immediately as his hand found her throat, both quelling her more playful tendencies and amplifying both of their pleasures as he continued to piston forward into her, until Bayan's convulsions brought him finally to his end. He let out a louder, more wanton moan, one more similar to her enthusiastic exclamations of pleasure as their collective climaxes washed over them, and she took all he had to give until he finally collapsed over her.

"Mm-hmm," the Dark Knight hummed in an almost singsong fashion, her hands ruffling gently through her Dragoon's hair as he reveled in his exhaustion. "That's it." She brought one of her hands down to her abdomen, massaging it gently as she slowly dismounted from her companion and laid beside him.

"Mmmmmnnn…" Chauncey was still going through aftershocks; sometimes it genuinely worried him to contemplate just how long she'd been getting him off sometimes that his orgasms were so intense. He slowly wrapped his arms around the petite frame of his lover, their foreheads touching gently. "Hon…"

"Mm-hmm?" Bayan opened her eyes for a moment.

"How long…" the Dragoon turned on his side. "...how long were you...y'know--"

"Getting you ready?" She finished with a small laugh. "About fifteen minutes."

"Oh, gods," he breathed, a bit of blood rushing to his face at the image.

"You usually wake up more quickly," she continued. "I was worried I might've tired you out too much last night."

"Uh-huh," he replied, clearly exhausted. "Yeah, me too." He leaned down, burying himself in the skin and scent of her chest, and she responded in kind by gently fluffing his hair. "You know, for somebody with such a thing for being asphyxiated--"   
  
“Yeah, yeah,” she waved the rest of his quip off, her eyes averting from his for a moment. “I’m working on it.”   
  
“Didn’t mean anything bad about it, hon.”   
  
“I know,” she assured him. “Although…” She ran her leg up gently between his, putting her ear to the Dragoon’s chest as she listened to the low sigh of arousal leave his lips. “You could always just get a good grip on my--”

"Hey," Chauncey interjected. "I'm not tryin' to hurt you here, Bayan."

She giggled slightly, pushing him onto his back once again, and straddled him once again. "No?" She slowly untied his haori from around her, revealing a series of bruises, scratches and marks running up and down her torso, some very recent, some from last night, and a scant few going back a few days and weeks.

She leaned down, whispering in Chauncey's ear as she began to roll against him again. "Why not?"

The Dragoon growled once again as the garment slowly dropped, exposing her fully. "Mmm...again?"

Bayan cocked an eyebrow. "You sure you're not too  _ tired _ ?"

Chauncey leaned up, resting his back on the bedpost, and took the Dark Knight by the back of the neck. "Shut up," he whispered, pulling her into another kiss.

\------------------------------------------

Chauncey walked through the town square, basking in the mid-afternoon sun. A bag hung from his spear; inside, an ornate wooden mask lay shrouded in cloth, protecting it from any potential crashes as he made his way across the promenade. His mind--and his muscles--tensed at the thought of his companion, waiting for him back at the inn. It unsettled him; something about the somewhat dubious nature of their relationship sowed a touch of doubt in his mind. Perhaps it was that he was more integrated with the rest of Eorzean society than his fellow Xaela, but the increasing sense of routine behind their activities began to feel...transactional. He hesitated to say he felt used, as he himself derived a great deal of enjoyment from their sessions just as she did. But there was a degree of emotional investment he had into his relationship with the Dark Knight.

"Something...something," he kept repeating to himself, surveying the myriad shops. A magic shop caught his eye, which he entered to find a wide variety of weapons, armors and accessories. Almost immediately upon entry he found himself greeted by a young Lalafell. 

"Welcome to Shanella's Arcanes!" the shopkeeper greeted him. "What can I do you for?"

"Well, ma'am," he replied, "I need a gift. For my…"

"'My'?" Shanella narrowed her eyes slyly at the Dragonling. "Friend, mother, lover, girlfriend, wife--?"

"L-let's go with 'companion' for now," Chauncey insisted, his slowly-flushing face eliciting a hearty laugh and an "Awww" from the Lalafell.

"You're Xaela, right?"

"I am," he replied. "So is she."

"Aaaah, so it's a courtship, then?"

"Somethin' like that."

"So, you're gonna need something that's gonna just take her breath away!" she exclaimed, leading him down a hallway lined with rings, robes, bracers and other smaller accessories.

Chauncey chuckled at the shopkeep's choice of words. "Somethin' like that."

  
"Hmm." The proverbial light bulb went off. "What's her stance on jewelry?"

"Never seen her wear it, but I don't think it's outta the question. She's a bit more...physical."

"Function  _ and _ fashion, then?" she thought out loud. "Got just the thing."

Shanella brought the Dragoon towards the back of the hall, opening a display case and removing a bust on which sat a beautiful, ornate necklace. A single chain bound the two clasps together, and the silver lining across it evoked the image of his hand through her hair as he looked upon it. Two onyx buttons held the clasps together on the opposite end, making the necklace hang gently on the bust while still accentuating the skin around it.   
  
“Like it?” she asked.   
  
“Yeah,” he breathed, imagining it on her already. “What’s it do?”   
  
The Lalafell beckoned him to lean down, and whispered into his ear as he leaned down to meet her height.   
  
Chauncey felt a wide, ear-to-ear smile begin to crease his lips.   
  
\-----------------------------------------------------

Bayan stood in the wide shower of their bathroom, regarding the spoils of the last few nights through a wall-length mirror as she tended to herself. Every finger tracing across scratches and pressure made against bruises, and the low thrum that each mark sent through her muscles brought an ever-fonder smile to her face. Eventually, her hand would arch downwards to her lower abdomen, a pale plain of unmarked flesh--outside anyway. She let out a small giggle at the work ‘unmarked’ as it entered her head, thinking about the many marks he had left  _ inside. _ A degree of genuine joy sparked alongside the apprehensive excitement as she looked upon the toned outlines of her stomach; whether she wanted to admit it or not, their dynamic had changed significantly in the months they’d spent together. Despite the mostly-transactional nature with which she’d approached their activities in the earlier days, she had likewise developed an emotional investment in her Xaela companion, beyond her concerns for their race.   
  
Suddenly, she heard a knock at the door, a noise that startled her slightly and caused her to turn off the stream of water. “Chauncey?” she called out.   
  
“Yeah,” the familiar voice replied. “Wanna show you something, once you’re decent.”

Bayan scoffed. ‘ _ Decent’ _ , she thought.  _ You’d think after all they’d been through, she’d have gotten him off the ‘decent’ track.  _ Yet nevertheless, his first concern was always her wellbeing. Every move he made, in travel, in combat, in intimacy, he made with a meticulous and consistent desire to ensure her safety and comfort--and that, of all things, was the most unsettling thing about it.   
  
The Dark Knight finally put on a shirt and her undergarments, opening the door to meet her companion. On the far side of the room, Chauncey sat in a chair across from their bed in something she’d never seen before; a jet-black haori with silver piping along the sleeves and ends adorned his person, tied tightly around his frame in a more formal manner that was far removed from the looser, more aloof way he carried himself. In his lap sat a fine wooden box, one he seemed quite fixated on until she walked through the door and he immediately rose to meet her.   
  
“You know the ball’s not till tomorrow night,” she quipped, remarking on his formalwear.   
  
“I know,” he sighed. “I wanna talk.”   
  
She walked up to face the Dragoon. “What’s going on?”   
  
“I need to know what you think of this,” he said. “Of us.”   
  
Bayan reached out to hold the arm of her fellow Xaela, her eyes drifting towards the box. “What’s this, Chauncey?”   
  
“That’s not an answer,” he replied.   
  
“...” Their eyes locked.    
  
“I think we’re bound,” Chauncey continued. “That we have been since the beach.” He lifted the box so she could open it. “And I want to solidify that bond.”

She looked down to the box, opening it to reveal the necklace. Her expression was perplexed for a moment before her eyes widened and turned back to face her companion.

"Chauncey, is this what I think it is?"   
  
“Depends on what you think it is,” he replied.   
  
“Chaunassen Euras, if this is a proposal--”

“If you think it’s my way of properly consummating our rela--”   
  
Both stopped. Eyes wide. Faces flushed. And after a brief moment of complete silence both began to break out into fits of laughter. Neither of them could think of the last time they’d talked for this long in a bedroom without it breaking out into a loud cacophony of primal noises and destroyed furniture. After another minute or so of joviality, Bayan reached out, lifting up Chauncey’s arm and tracing her finger across his scales.    
  
“What’re you doin’, hon?” he asked, still in the midst of a soft chuckle.   
  
“Making sure you haven’t been Raen this whole time,” she mused.   
  
A heartier laugh rocked the Dragoon. “Is it really  _ that _ weird?! That I wanted to have something physical?”   
  
The Dark Knight shook her head, taking the box from him and reopening it, regarding the trinket. “For us? Yeah. Even when I ran with my tribe, people didn’t  _ do _ this, it’s so…”    
  
“So...what?”   
  
“Domestic!” she laughed.   
  
“‘Domestic,’” he repeated, chuckling a bit in his own embarrassment as he sat back down, putting them closer to eye level.   
  
Bayan walked forward, reveling in being taller than him for a moment. “You know I didn’t mean that as an insult--”   
  
“Yeah, I get it,” he sighed. “That’s not really the question, though.”   
  
“Hm?”   
  
“Do you like it?” Chauncey took the box from her grasp, opening it out to her as though making an offering. “And will you accept it?”   
  
Bayan took a long look at the gift, examining every detail; tracing her fingers across the ornate silvered detailing that wove through the clasps like hair in the wind; feeling the light, yet well-made chain that both held the two clasps together and evoked in her a bond between two. Finally, her fingers found the gems that formed the front buttons, where she could feel the faintest familiar hum of Aether coursing through the adornment; this thing was magical. In more ways than one--after years of seeing the world through her suit of armor, as she looked upon the necklace she found herself imagining being without it for a day. After all, it didn’t enhance her strength; aside from cushioning blows and protecting her from damage, it served little purpose beyond insulating her from the myriad forms of beration and condescension she was subjected to by the rabble of idiots who may have thought twice had they known the litany of ways in which she could twist their bones and wrest screams from their lungs.   
  
“I..I do,” she said. “Like it, I mean.”   
  
“That’s one,” he said with a smile, getting up and setting the box on the dresser before removing the gift. “May I?”   
  
Bayan flushed once more, before slowly turning around and lifting her hair up slightly to keep her hair away from the base of her neck. Chauncey inched forward, undoing the chain to fasten behind her, when she grabbed his arm with her free hand.   
  
“So, if we were to…” she giggled slightly at the word. “...’consummate our bond’, as you seem inclined to say, what does that mean for me?”   
  
“What, you’re scared I’ll ‘domesticate’ you?”

“Maybe.”   
  
“Well, don’t worry about that.” He gently nudged up her shirt, eyeing her bruises from this morning. “We both get too much of a rise outta this stuff for me to even  _ imagine _ doing anything like that.”   
  
“Well, what then?”    
  
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never done this before.” Something crossed his mind for a split second, a taunt he couldn’t keep from bringing a smile to his face. “Well, maybe I’ll stop holding back during our sparring sessions.”   
  
She cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t play that with me,” she said flatly, the response bringing another laugh forth from him.   
  
“In all seriousness, though.” The Dragoon straightened up once more, holding the gift with both hands. “Last thing I wanna do is coop you up. I just thought that maybe this thing we’ve been doing, this thing we  _ have _ ...should have a word. A definition.”

Bayan formed a wry smile, turning back around and lifting her hair again as an invitation to the Dragoon. He returned the expression, bringing the necklace up around her neck and closing the chain, and as he let go she could feel a faint warmth emanating from the necklace as its magic began to flow once again.

"So...what?" she posited. "Mates, then?"

Chauncey scoffed at the word, laughing nervously at the primal and transactional undertones of his referring to her or she to him as a 'mate'. "Maybe not," he said softly, turning back to face her. "I was thinking along the lines of 'partner'.”

She smirked slightly. "You wanna put a ring on my finger while you're at it?"

"Shut up," he laughed.

"Have a nice wedding at Costa del Sol?"

"Quit it," he insisted, his smile beginning to flatten.

"Put the guys in suits and Oz'ie's sisters in dresses and have Gegeruju do the rites--"

"Okay." Bayan heard the invisible string snap in Chauncey's brain, taking a deep breath in anticipation before, like clockwork, the Dragoon's hand found itself coiling around her neck and bringing her into the wall opposite the bed with a loud  _ thud. _

A hushed, quiet moan as she held her breath.  _ That’s more like it. _

A slow, methodical tightening of the grip at her neck.  _ You know I hate when you bring up that prick. _

A slow, light nuzzling of her chin against his offending arm.  _ How much? _

A second hand wrapped slowly around her throat, as Chauncey began to use both arms to lift her up by it.  _ Enough. _

Bayan looked into her partner’s eyes, ablaze with excitement, as she quickly began to lose track of her breathing. She quickly exhaled, bringing her arm up to tap Chauncey's as a signal for him to let go, as her breathing began to quicken--

A hand tapping his arm, then pointing to her own neck.  _ I can breathe. _

A slowly widening smirk.  _ I know. _

He lowered her gently onto the ground, checking to make sure he hadn't bruised her too badly. Her focus was more on the fact that despite being suspended against a wall by her windpipe, she found no difficulty breathing whatsoever. 

"Chauncey," she whispered, "is this what I think it is?"

He smiled. "I mean, it wasn't  _ intended _ as a proposal, but if that's what you  _ want _ \--"

"Is this a Necklace of--"

He nodded. "Oh, yeah."

"So I can breathe--"

"Uh-huh."

"No matter what?"

"Pretty sure," he replied, bringing his hands to gently caress from her collarbones up to the nape of her neck. "You keen to find out?" 

The Dark Knight locked eyes with her fellow Xaela, bringing his right hand back to her throat, and nodded once again. He immediately pulled her upwards, part by her waist and part by the back of her neck, bringing her into another rough kiss that found her wrapping her legs around him for balance as he deposited her onto the bed. He disrobed from his haori, kissing and nibbling a path up the petite frame of his partner until he reached her neck, where he clamped down his teeth. An audible gasp and shuddering moan left her lips as he bit and suckled until his lips left her, leaving a slowly-reddening mark.

A labored panting, as her hand tentatively traced around his newest mark.  _ So rough _ .

A soft chuckle, hands exploring the shifting body of his companion.  _ You enjoy it. _

"Does this mean you've reconsidered?" she asked, giving a quick flash of her eyes upwards to her horns.

"Well, maybe your newfound lack of concern for breathing--"

"I already had, at best, a marginal concern for breathing."

Chauncey laughed. "Well, now that you don't  _ need _ to breathe, then, maybe I'll be a bit more inclined to...indulge you."

She scoffed at him, brandishing her new bruise. "Don't pretend you don't like it."

“Never that.” Chauncey laid down alongside her for a moment before turning her around by her legs, bringing them upwards to face him.   
  
“Waitasec,” she said as she was being turned. “I thought I was--”   
  
“Uh-uh.” The Dragoon kissed along the inside of each of her legs, before sliding her underwear downwards until she was able to kick them off. “If I’m gonna be in charge, it’s my rules.”   
  
Bayan rolled her eyes. “One of these days, I’m gonna get you to  _ actually _ do something.”   
  
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure of it,” he responded with a hint of sarcasm. “Till then, ladies first.”    
  
Chauncey immediately grabbed hold of Bayan’s hips, affixing her to him as he began licking at her; unlike most times where he gradually eased into his enjoyment, he began by agonizingly attacking her clit with his tongue, a change of pace that had her moaning indiscriminately from the start. Her hands quickly found themselves upon his chest, using it for balance as he attacked her most sensitive areas with learned precision.

"Ah, no-not so fast, Chauncey…" she breathed, scratching lightly against his chest.   
  
“Mmm?” He loosened his grip on her just enough for her to lift herself off of him.   
  
“You’re going too fast,” she giggled. “You’re never this…” She winced and moaned as he began to nibble lightly at the inside of one of her thighs. “You’re never this forward.”   
  
“Well, I thought you’d wanna get on with it, since you seem so  _ eager _ .” He pulled her back in, finally sliding his tongue inside and returning to his work.   
  
“Ooooooh, gods,” she moaned out, shuddering. She leaned her head down, grinding her hips into his face, when she looked forward, seeing the lower half of her partner through her silver mane. Through pulsing waves of pleasure she began to lean down, lowering his garments and beginning to kiss down his stomach toward his growing length. He let out a low growl as her hand reached down to grasp him, the vibrations of which sent a thrum into her clit which forced a heavy shudder from her frame.

  
Chauncey lifted her hips just enough that he could take a breath, kissing along the inside of her legs. “Somebody’s eager,” he crooned from beneath her.

"I thought that was the p-point," she breathed.

" _ I thought _ I said 'ladies first'."

"Fuck off," she whined between sounds of pleasure, leaning over and moving to envelop him with her mouth. He gasped at the warmth, attempting to grab at her hips and pull her back onto his face, only for Bayan to reach out with one of her legs and pin the Dragoon's arm to his side as she began her work.

It didn't take much before his length began to fill her mouth, but the magic of the necklace was potent; she was able to breathe without obstruction despite vigorously taking him as deep as she could. The roughness she laid into him with from the outset drew far louder moans from her companion than usual, as he attempted to bury his face in her legs to stifle his noises. She giggled at the attempt, continuing to push herself further down his cock until she reached the point they had this morning and many nights before. Despite her lack of concern for breath, his length pressing against the entrance to her throat drew a series of loud, gagging noises as she involuntarily coated him in her saliva.

Chauncey finally let his mouth open, his moans growing louder and more indiscriminate as she continued fellating him, and he reached his free hand downward in desperate scratches towards her head. Her free leg repeatedly found the inside of his arm, kicking it aside playfully as she continued to wrest moan after labored moan from the mouth of her prey. He tried feebly to kick out with his legs, to buck his hips forward, only to have her use her upper body strength to keep his hips and upper legs down as she milked him.   
  
“Ah! Fuck! Bayan…! I--fuck!”   
  
Bayan stopped suddenly, the head of his cock pressed firmly against the entrance to her throat. She hummed a loud “ _ Mmmmmm…? _ ” into him, the reverberation of which going directly into his head and driving the Dragoon to whimpers. He felt feral--a mass of groans and growls and grunts as the Dark Knight exerted her considerable strength to hold him down as she attempted to throat him. His free hand clawed and scratched at the lower body of his attacker as she deftly kept it from reaching further, leaving him at the mercy of her ever-tightening mouth around him.   
  
He snapped.   
  
“Ah-Bayan-fuck! Fine! Shit! I’ll do it--!”   
  
“ _ Mmmmm? _ ” she hummed into him once again, in a singsong manner that caused the words ‘come again?’ reverberate in the back of his head.   
  
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it, just-- _ fuck! _ Please, just--”   
  
Bayan slowly slid her head from his cock, releasing a hot breath upon the head as she took a proper breath through her mouth after several minutes of gleeful torture. She looked upon it, upon the ropes of saliva bridging her mouth to it, before gently wiping her face with an edge of their blanket and crawling off of his torso.   
  
“What was that, Chauncey?” she asked, doe eyes looking back upwards into the almost-pained expression of her partner.   
  
The eye contact brought an unexpected rush of blood to the Dragoon’s face as he watched her slowly stroke him, her mouth making gentle kisses up and down his shaft. “Just sh-shut up and gimme a second,” he panted.   
  
“How close were you?” she giggled.   
  
“Too close for too fucking long,” he growled.   
  
She loosed another soft laugh, stroking him at a slow but steady pace so as to remove some of the spit coating it as well as bring him gently down from his edge. He began to slowly inch himself downward, Bayan moving in lockstep until he sat at the bottom end of the bed, the Dark Knight kneeling before him. As they did, she heard Chauncey’s labored pants grow steadier as he calmed himself, gently running his fingers through her hair as she knelt.   
  
“Ready?” Bayan asked.   
  
“Mm,” Chauncey nodded, standing up and bringing his hands from rooting in her hair to taking one of her horns in each. She smiled wryly, opening her mouth as wide as she could, before he began to pull slowly, inching into her until he reached the back once again. He raised his head, emitting a low moan as she closed her lips around his length, and reveled in the myriad noises that her throat produced, her body blissfully incognizant of the fact that the intruder pushing its way downwards would act as no impedance upon her ability to breathe. She looked up, producing a small giggle at the pleasure he derived from it before bringing her hands upwards to his hips--one sliding up to his front, stopping just where his leg met his torso, the other moving behind him to the small of his back.   
  
The Dragoon growled, beginning to move in and out slowly, making a soft grunt each time his head pressed against the entrance to her throat. Likewise, his movements outward prompted a bevy of loud, lewd noises to emerge from the woman beneath him, only stifled by the cock pushing back into her and its endeavor to stretch her throat--his assurance that she derived as much enjoyment from this as he did.

Bayan suddenly pushed gently at his hip, pulling him from her and allowing her to get her bearings.

"Ah!" Chauncey exclaimed, releasing a long breath. "Y-ou okay, hon? Did something happen?"

"No," she said flatly, gently wiping the saliva from her face again.

"Then why'd you--"

"That's the problem." She abruptly brought her left hand to meet her right at the small of his back, pushing him forward until her face laid flat against his pelvis, kissing at the base of his cock. "You're going easy on me."

Chauncey flushed. She giggled at the expression, leaving more kisses at his base, and he sighed. "Okay, okay."

"You sure? You don't wanna just lay down and let me do my thing?"

"Gods, no."

"Maybe I worked you up too much and you're too tire-- _ mmph! _ "

Chauncey abruptly renewed his grip on her horns, pushing her back down onto him. "For gods' sake, shut-" He finally pulled back, thrusting roughly into her throat. "-the  _ fuck- _ " Another thrust generated a loud gagging noise from the Dark Knight. "-up." He used his hips to pivot Bayan back towards the bed, pushing her backwards into it and beginning to thrust into her with abandon.

Bayan’s eyes went aflutter as her partner proceeded to force himself into her mouth with a roughness he’d never exhibited towards her before, despite the dizzying number of markings across her body that would suggest otherwise. Her automatic responses were to bring her hands to his hips, to push him off--but those were for somebody for whom breathing was a priority. She brought her hands behind her back, clasping her own wrists so as to resist the involuntary reflex to retreat for air, electing instead to stay right where she was and have her Dragoon indulge himself with her. Her mouth released low, lewd moans with each backward motion before his cock would obstruct her voice again, as he continued thrusting with a slowly-escalating degree of roughness, until--

She felt it. A set of muscles in her neck stretching ever-so-slightly outward, and a faint  _ shunk _ noise that evoked in her mind the image of a last puzzle piece slotting into place. He felt it too, giving a guttural groan as he finally pushed her head down those scant final inches, the back of Bayan’s throat squeezing tightly against his head. Bayan attempted a moan, only managing to form a few hushed grunts between gagging noises as her mouth continued to lubricate him, causing Chauncey to look down with the faintest expression of concern that was quickly assuaged by her giving him a small, approving nod.

He pushed her head gently until her nose pressed lightly against his pelvis, confirming to them both that he had gone as deep as he could. A cacophony of moans and noises escaped his lips as he relished the feeling coursing through him; Bayan's throat constantly squeezed at the head and upper shaft of his cock, every faint gulp and involuntary gag causing the muscles to tense in a rhythmic pattern as though milking him by design. Nevertheless, he kept her head positioned there for a moment, determined to further accustom her throat to the shape of him, before slowly pulling out of her mouth.

Their faces were incredulous. Bayan took a deep breath, eyes locked to meet Chauncey's, a faint grin forming on her face as he panted. 

"Holy shit," she breathed.

"We-" Chauncey released a long, low groan. "Oooooh, fuck, we did it."

" _ You _ did it," she giggled, wiggling her head slightly to regard his hands and their grip on her horns. She began gently running her tongue along the entirety of his length, eliciting further moans of pleasure from her partner. “Ready to wrap things up?” she asked, lifting a single wet hand to reveal she’d been playing with herself for quite some time as he lay into her.   
  
Chauncey growled in approval. “Oh, yeah,” he muttered, pulling her head back towards his length.    
  
“Uh-uh,” she taunted. “Remember, no wast--”   
  
Bayan found her mouth reoccupied by his cock before she could finish the sentence. “You know, hon,” he mused, bringing his head back to the entrance of her throat. “I’d like to have  _ one _ \--” He abruptly thrust his hips forward, bringing his final few inches past her throat barrier for a moment before pulling out. “- _ fucking _ -” Again, he pushed himself down her throat, eliciting a few panicked gasps and gagging noises from his partner; he kept his head poised at the entrance each time he began to pull out, ensuring that she still couldn’t breathe without the Necklace. “- _ night- _ ” He thrust himself down into her a third time, this time keeping her nose pressed firmly against him as he bottomed out in her. “-where everything isn’t about fucking  _ breeding. _ ” He smirked slightly at his position; the backwards-leaning stance he’d put her into both put her in an optimal position for him to relentlessly fuck her face  _ and _ put her at a disadvantageous one in terms of mustering the upper body strength to wrest him from her. “So I’m gonna be a bit selfish today, and after I get what  _ I  _ want, I’ll give you what you want. Deal?” 

He looked down, meeting her eyes once again; the slight intonations that accompanied her gags, alongside her gently pleading eyes, suggested to him an almost petulant, childlike reluctance. Finally, after a few moments of glaring at him, she acquiesced, giving him another small nod to signal her consent. “Good,” he said with a smile, gently ruffling her hair with his hands for a few moments before taking hold of her horns and beginning to fuck her throat properly. He began a rough movement of short thrusts, barely pulling the head of his cock from the entrance to her throat before pushing its entirety into her, releasing low, quick moans with each thrust inward as her muscles tensed along his cock to greet him.

Between her prior edging of him and his particular roughness in fucking her throat, it didn’t take long for Chauncey to feel the heat rising in his lower abdomen, signaling that he was reaching his end. The rhythmic contractions and relaxations of Bayan’s throat around him almost felt as though they mimicked that of her pussy in the way that they extracted the utmost pleasure from the Dragoon as he continued to piston forward into her, as though made with the express purpose of milking him of that which she needed. The thought forced itself to the forefront of his mind--the idea that for all the worry about being used he’d been feeling all this time, here he was, actively  _ using _ her body for his pleasure, and  _ enjoying _ it--causing him to slow down, and eventually stop for a moment, pulling out of her mouth and allowing her a reprise to breathe properly.   
  
“Haaaah…” Despite the Necklace ensuring her ability to breathe, the way in which Chauncey stretched and dilated her throat was an ever-present feeling; a mixture of the pleasure of overstimulation, the slight numbness of post-fight fatigue and the slight thrum of discomfort after a pulled muscle. “You...you’re close, aren’t you?” she asked, finally removing her hands from behind her to gently massage her windpipe.   
  
Chauncey was silent for a moment, lifting her gently and depositing her onto the bed as she tended to her neck, before bringing her hips to the edge of the bed and taking position there. “Let’s just finish up like usual, okay?” he responded after a short while, rubbing his head against her entrance.   
  
“You sounded pretty dead-set earlier, though,” she posited, looking up at him.   
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He let out a low breath as he slowly came down from the edge for a second time. “Changed my mind.”   
  
“Well,” she scoffed, “you know I wouldn’t complain.” She leaned upwards, pulling her Dragoon’s neck downward into an uncharacteristically gentle kiss that surprised him, but not nearly enough for him not to return it. She brought one hand up behind his head, holding him there, the other exploring along his right side slowly as one of her legs gently began to wrap around his waist. He gently moaned into the kiss, allowing his hands to leave her leg and travel up to her waist, when he heard the  _ thud _ of her other foot hitting the floor next to him.   
  
_ Oh, shit. _ He’d been on the giving  _ and _ receiving ends of that  _ thud  _ more than enough times to recognize a throw, but he was already caught; in a single motion, the Dark Knight took grip at his neck and waist, flipping them over such that she now straddled him once again, looking down at him with a wily, prideful smile.   
  
She abruptly took his cock in both hands, beginning to stroke it slowly but roughly in a set of dual twisting motions that drew a loud, shallow gasp from Chauncey’s mouth. “Except you didn’t,” she said. “Change your mind, I mean.”   
  
“Wha- _ mmmph _ .” Chauncey’s question cut into a low, stifled groan as she tightened her hands around him again.   
  
“You got worried,” she said with a small giggle.   
  
“Well, yeah,” he breathed.    
  
“Why?”   
  
“You know why, Bayan.”   
  
“I thought you’d’ve been more comfortable with me by now,” she pondered. “Or that you’d’ve figured it out by now.”   
  
“And what’s that?”   
  
“That if you ever made me uncomfortable...or if I ever didn’t  _ want _ something…” She abruptly tightened her grip on his length again, this one just enough to draw a pained wince and gasp from him, before immediately softening the grip. “...you’d know.”   
  
Chauncey took a deep breath as Bayan returned to gently working him back up. She was right, of course--one thing they both knew from the get-go was that she was, in spite of her stature compared to his, categorically stronger than him, and that she could without a doubt fight him off if his intentions for her were ever to oppose her own--but beyond that, the particular way in which their intimacy took form was one alien to him, and one that despite his enjoyment he did genuinely worry about.   
  
“Think of it this way,” she continued, her eyes meeting his and one of her hands reaching upwards to run a finger across her gift. “We’re...partners, right?”   
  
Chauncey flushed almost instantly, and Bayan stifled a giggle as she felt him tense in her hands. “Y-...yeah. We are.”   
  
“Then, we provide for one another,” she concluded. “And we understand both what we want and what we don’t.”    
  
“Of course,” he replied.   
  
“Then there’s no problem,” she said. “I know I usually scoff at you about the whole ‘asking instead of doing’ thing, but that’s mostly because we didn’t really think like that where I’m from.”   
  
“Me either,” he exhaled. “Part ‘a’ why I left.”   
  
“Yet here you are,” she giggled, “mercilessly fucking your partner’s face without a care in the world.”   
  
“Clearly not without a care,” he laughed in response.

“That’s what I’m saying, though.” She then turned around, putting her back to him, before slowly crawling outward so her legs adorned his shoulders, kissing gently at his length. “You don’t need to be paranoid with me.  _ You will know _ when and if I’m uncomfortable.”   
  
Chauncey took another deep breath, taking in the scent of her and kissing gently across the inside of each of her thighs. “...Okay.”   
  
“Okay?”   
  
“Okay,” he repeated.   
  
“Good.” She immediately took one of his hands, slowly drawing it along her back and up behind her head. “You can start by finishing what you started.”   
  
Chauncey growled approvingly, taking her head in both hands and pushing her slowly back down his cock until his head pressed against the entrance to her throat once again. He let out a pleasured groan as he gently pushed her head downward, feeling his last few inches slip in to be squeezed by her throat muscles.   
  
“Mmmmm,  _ fuck _ , Bayan,” he breathed, holding her head at the base of him once again.   
  
“Mmmmmmm,” she replied, a low hum of approval the only noise she was able to muster while having her mouth otherwise occupied.   
  
Chauncey slowly built up to his rougher, more ravenous pace, pistoning upwards into his companion’s mouth to her thorough enjoyment. As he did so, she brought her hands around his waist, finding grip behind his hips and subtly urging him onward against his own apprehension. It worked; eventually, after a gradual build as he began testing her tolerance for him, he found himself making long, hard thrusts into her throat, before pulling almost completely back and thrusting back upwards. At no point did his cock completely leave her mouth; that baser instinct that derived its enjoyment from his use of her for his own ends wanted nothing more than to make his claim upon her--to train her throat to accept him and to further mark her as his. However, he found himself finally approaching his end; after several stints in a row teetering on the edge, the relentless thrusting with which he propelled himself into the mouth of his partner found him issuing forth low, almost pained growls as he felt himself returning to the precipice.    
  
“Bayan, I’m gonna cum,” Chauncey uttered between thrusts.    
  
Bayan responded by tightening her grip on his hips, pulling the head of his cock slowly down the back of her throat, before clasping her arms together to hold him in place. He moaned his approval into the room, holding her by both of her horns as he returned to short thrusts to be milked by her throat until his climax slowly began to pour over him.   
  
“Oooh, Bayan,  _ fuuuuuuck _ …” Chauncey released a guttural moan, clamping his teeth into the inside of one of her thighs as he bottomed out in Bayan's throat, holding her there with both hands through his release. The sudden bite nearly wrenched a moan from the Dark Knight, but merely found her generating a series of slightly more audible gags as her body continued to lubricate him despite her lack of a need for it. What nearly coaxed him further onward, however, was the  _ sound _ . Behind the gags and faint sputtering as her saliva continued to drip forth onto him was the faintest sound of swallowing, as her body slowly yet surely took everything he had until the rhythmic contractions that milked him began to overstimulate him and he began to slowly pull himself from her.

Bayan took a deep, almost desperate gasp for air as her throat was freed from obstruction and the muscles began to reorient towards proper breathing. She looked down, back between their bodies to look upon her suitor; Chauncey's head was thrown backwards in catharsis, the only sounds coming from him being a series of heaving pants and the attempts at growling that stopped themselves short in the wake of his orgasm. She giggled slightly, smiling proudly upon her handiwork before beginning to clean him up--licking up what remained of his orgasm and gently wiping down her face and his groin of her saliva with a towel before turning around to face him properly. 

She straddled his lap slowly, leaning over and lifting his head to face her. “You okay, Chauncey…?”   
  
Chauncey was utterly slack-jawed, his eyes half-glazed as he slowly came down from his stupor. He brought himself slowly up into an upright stance, his eyes lifting dully to face her. His panting subsided, replaced with a low, whispered growl that he buried in the chest of his companion. “Mmmmm…” He mustered the strength to push her forward unto the bed, such that they were both laying in the proper direction, and brought her back against his chest, holding her there with stern, yet gentle arms.   
  
“There’s nice Chauncey again,” she giggled gently.   
  
“Need sleep,” he muttered into her.   
  
“Oh, you’re finally tired,” she remarked.   
  
“Mmm.”   
  
“What happened to me getting what I want?” she asked playfully.   
  
“Tonight,” he said lowly. “After.”   
  
“ _ Tonight? _ ” She exclaimed, an obvious exaggeration. “But what if I wanna--”   
  
Chauncey’s persistent growl hit a peak at the jest, and the Dragoon replied to it with a stern bite into the nape of her neck. It was rougher than she was used to from him, and definitely unexpected given both his predilections and his current state of mind--but not so much of either so as not to wrest a sharp yelp from her frame, followed by a shuddered moan as his lips left her flesh.   
  
“ _ Later. _ ” He pulled the covers up and over them, bringing her further into his embrace as he settled into rest. “Sleep now.”   
  
She brought her hands up to his forearms, warming them gently as she felt him drift. Something about the manner in which he set upon her derived a sly satisfaction from her--a sense of ‘that’s more like it’-ness, an air of ‘I told you so’ that seemed to permeate through her partner’s sleep as he gently tightened his grip on her. And something about this--the dichotomy with which he cared and worried for and doted on her on one hand, yet was finally willing to indulge his baser desires on the other--was both an excitement and a comfort.   
  
She contemplated which side she’d see when next she tempted him.   
  
_ Can’t wait _ .   
  
  



End file.
